


The Beast and the Dragon, Adored

by rocketpool



Category: Supernatural
Genre: a little dark, cross-posted from LJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-16
Updated: 2008-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:03:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocketpool/pseuds/rocketpool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things shouldn't be forgotten, but saving the world can be such a distraction.  After all, the road to hell is paved with the best intentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beast and the Dragon, Adored

**Author's Note:**

> Title snagged from a Spoon song. Looked over quickly by the Cynic, so apologies for any mistakes with a lack of proper beta. For [](http://unhobbityhobbit.livejournal.com/profile)[**unhobbityhobbit**](http://unhobbityhobbit.livejournal.com/), hope there's enough evil for you :) Spoilers through 3x16.
> 
> Contains references to violence, but I didn't think they were graphic enough to warrant a tagged warning.

 

The same day Dean died, Sam drove to Stull, Kansas like a madman with a vision. He hadn't saved his brother, had failed quite extraordinarily when Dean had needed him most, but he did know how to fix it. Had known how to fix it if this was what happened for some time.

There were just other things that would need doing first. Things he couldn't have done with Dean alive. Bodies didn't keep for long enough, though, and he sure as hell wasn't going to make Dean a zombie. (Even if Dean would have laughed about it at first. It wasn't funny. Not even a little.) So Sam had prepared. When Dean thought he'd been researching things that might break the deal, Sam had gotten everything ready, just in case. A storage unit in Stull, and the materials he'd need, protected and sealed and hidden so that nothing could go wrong. Not this time. (And if Bobby thought that Sam was going to cremate his brother in private, well, that was less time wasted with unnecessary explanations.)

Sam cleaned the body (it wasn't Dean, not anymore, not like this) with more care and focus than his brother ever dreamed of devoting to his car. But he cleaned the car as well, with an equal amount of devotion. The ritual was ridiculously simple, once you had the right ingredients. Simple and brief, herbs in place, words spoken, blood marked. The reversed devil's trap was a little more complicated, but it would work.

Dean wouldn't have liked the comparison to Snow White, laid out as though he were sleeping in the back of his car. But yeah, that was kinda funny. At least, Sam told himself, he'd get a chuckle out of it later when Dean really did wake up.

So he locked the unit behind him and faced the world alone.

\---

 _five years later_  
Dean had always called him a perfectionist (actually, his exact words were “pain in the ass nitpicking ginormitron”), but when Sam gave Ruby orders she didn't tend to notice. Usually.

“Seriously?” the demon asked, obviously irritated. Today she was wearing a thirty year old red head with a perfect figure. If it weren't for the fact that Sam already knew Lilith's cronies had shredded the last body she'd possessed, he would have been upset. At least he hadn't had to summon her out of the Abyss again. “You want me to enforce proper calendar terminology on the entertainment industry? You want me to make sure they put a _t-h_ suffix on a number? Don't you have better things to do now that you rule the world?”

He tried to hide a smirk (Dean wouldn't have bothered, never had). “You haven't been able to root out the last of Lilith's hide-outs. I figured something... easier would suit you for the moment. Besides, I just want you to spook Zeddmore and Spangler.” He signed off on a few papers, setting them to one side, and began reading a briefing on plans to systematically eliminate poltergeists on the east coast. If it worked he was going to have to have a meeting with the European Union about applying it elsewhere.

Bureaucracies were such a bitch.

“Just because your brother enjoyed messing with those two goofball nobodies...” Ruby growled. Sam glanced up at her for only a moment, but her mouth closed fast enough to make her teeth click.

There was a soft knock at the door to his office. He waved one hand dismissively at Ruby. “Go. Talk to Zeddmore and Spangler about the damn t-h.” (Dean really would find it funny.) “Then you can get back to finding the bitch.”

“You still want her brought back here?”

He gave her a dark look, and Ruby pulled her disappearing trick. For a moment he allowed himself to sit and think, jaw clenched tight, about all the things he'd do to Lilith for tearing his life apart. For what she'd done to Dean.

Another knock pulled him from his thoughts. He gestured, putting just enough willpower into the motion that the door opened itself. Meg (it wasn't her true name, not even the name of the body she wore, but it was what he made her answer to) hesitantly took a step just inside the door. When he first came into power, he made it a point to bind her into his service. Technically that meant he couldn't harm her (a boon, really, since Ruby was the only other demon he didn't have immediately exorcised into oblivion), but she was terrified of him. Rightfully so. It amused him at first, the things he could make her do. Now it was getting old.

“There's a call on line three for you from the team in central Africa...”

“They found another trickster?” He went back to perusing the briefing.

“No, sir. Another vampire nest. They wanted to know if... well, there were no signs of feeding on humans...”

“Tell them to exterminate the nest and move on.”

“Yes sir.” Meg hesitated. She was more fidgety than usual. “Mr. Winchester?” (There was no getting used to that. Dean would make fun of him for it later.) He glanced up at her. “You also have an appointment. They'd made it down in Reception, or I would have asked you about it. But he's already... It's Singer.”

Sam blinked. Singer? ... _Bobby_? “Let him in.” He stood and came around his desk as Meg gestured to someone outside. The older man strode in. With the exception of a few more gray hairs, Bobby didn't seem much different than the night Dean had died, right up to the trucker hat with the pig on it. Sam wasn't sure how to feel about it; he hadn't spoken to Bobby since then. Had gone out of his way to avoid the man because of the things he'd have to do. (And he'd need to have a chat with security. The building had a dress code, after all.)

The door clicked shut.

“What in the hell do you think you're doing?” Bobby said, his voice heated.

Sam narrowed his eyes into a cold glare. (The only people who got away with – who had any right – speaking to him like that were dead.) “Excuse me?” It had been years, and this was how he greeted him?

“The both a'you were always a pair a idjits, but I always figured you for the smart one, Sam. You think I didn't know about your little stunt in Stull?” Sam clenched his jaw to bite back his temper (it wasn't a _stunt_ ) but that didn't stop the trickster's skull and various pens from rattling on his desk. It didn't slow Bobby down a bit, of course. “I thought you would'a asked for help. And instead you do _this_?” Bobby put enough revulsion into the last word to make Sam feel like he'd been slapped.

“Do what exactly? Save the world?”

“Rulin' it ain't savin' it, kid. No matter how many evil sons a'bitches you put down or enslave. Y'ain't saved anybody in a long time.” Bobby snorted. “You think Dean would'a wanted it this way? This what he died for, so you could become exactly what he was tryin' to save you from?” Bobby looked sad. Disappointed even, which wasn't fair. Getting this far, getting this _close_ , had been difficult.

It pissed him off, Bobby judging him like this. The windows started to rattle, which pissed him off even more. It had been a long time since Sam had lost this much control. He had to give the old man credit though. There weren't many in the world who could look Samuel Winchester in the eye when he was really angry without trembling or looking away.

Or getting a taste of his wrath.

“You should leave,” Sam said, his words clipped. (Dean probably wouldn't appreciate it if he killed him for something stupid like this... Probably.)

“Yeah, maybe I should,” Singer responded. His voice was weary, the age suddenly showing in his eyes and face. Sam could see the soft echo of a memory as it hovered behind his eyes: Sam and Dean as kids looking up at him and calling him Uncle Bobby. Singer turned to go, but stopped at the door. “I always thought you'd save'm.” Then he slipped out, closing the door behind him.

Sam stared at the far wall as his temper faded. “Fuck,” he growled to himself. Singer was right.

\---

“You don't have to be here,” Ruby said. She didn't take her gaze from the countryside rolling past the windows of their SUV, and kept her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts. Undoubtedly she thought she was in trouble; Sam hadn't come with her to hunt for Lilith in a little over two years.

He briefly contemplated forcing her down across the backseat, but he wasn't sure if it would be to show her she wasn't, or to show her what punishment would really look like. It hardly mattered. Ruby wouldn't respond to it nearly so well as Meg (if at all, nevermind the fact that sending her to deal with Zeddmore and Spangler would be more of a punishment). And Sam had more important things to focus on.. “Yes, I do.”

“She'll feel you coming.”

He smirked for a moment (oh, the jokes Dean would be making right now) then shook his head. “It won't make a difference. I've put this off for too long already.” (Five years, dammit. _Five years_.)

Ruby frowned. “This is too convenient. Coming up for air here?”

Sam shrugged. He didn't pretend to believe she was concerned with his well being as much as she was the power she'd secured for herself. “Trying to hit me where it hurts before I destroy her.” It was a stupid mistake on Lilith's part. She was only making things easier on him by appearing in Stull. Especially since she'd didn't have the power to break into the storage unit. Hell, she wouldn't even be able to open the Stairway to release back-up from Hell.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence. It didn't take much longer, all things considered, until they pulled up to the storage company's front gate.

“She's definitely here,” Ruby said.

Sam closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated. “She's right outside of the unit, with a couple of men she's got trying to break in. Clever.” He grinned as he opened his eyes (a shame Dean couldn't see Ruby squirm uncomfortably when Sam looked at her). He wasn't worried about the people she'd brought with her – he'd taken precautions against the mundane as well as the supernatural. “Stay here.”

“But, Sa-” she started.

“Stay. Here.”

Sam took his time walking through the maze of concrete buildings with his hands in his pockets, casually passing the bloody remains of civilians unfortunate enough to have been here when Lilith arrived. As for Lilith... well. She'd come this far. He didn't see her running now.

“ _Hurry_ ,” he could hear a woman saying as he rounded a corner. From behind she was a vision, lithe and petite with long, curly blond hair and smooth, creamy skin. Sam smirked; if she thought she was tugging at his heart strings by trying to look like Jessica, she was sadly mistaken. The too tight clothes and stiletto boots made her look more like something Dean would hit on anyway. He leaned against the wall for a moment to watch.

“We are,” one of the men said, just as the other exclaimed, “Got it!” They wasted no time pulling the aluminum sliding door up and open. Of course, they didn't unlatch the trip wire either. A small explosion riddled both men with nails and ball bearings. (Sam had, after all, taken his brother's parting advice to heart and kept all their father's dirtiest tricks in mind.)

As planned, the protective circle and sigils remained intact.

“No!” Lilith screeched. She kicked the nearest corpse repeatedly. “No, no, no!”

“Your body might be all grown up this time,” Sam said, “but you still throw hissy fits like a little girl.” The curl of his lips were belied by the intensity in his eyes.

Lilith froze. Slowly she turned to glare at him. Her pretty face was set into a pout. “Sam...”

“Not gonna call me a stinky, rotten shit-head this time?” It had been pitiful, and disappointing, the last time he'd encountered her. He hadn't been strong enough to kill her then, but she'd fled with her tail between her legs and childish insults echoing behind her. Sam straightened and walked toward her.

Her eyes widened and she took a step backwards. He could see in her eyes that he'd been right; she knew she was cornered and there was no way out. Lilith launched herself at him, hands extended as though she planned on throttling him. Or ripping his heart out. A wave of his hand deflected her, sent her flying backwards at full speed only to rebound off the invisible boundaries of the circle.

She made it back up onto her knees, eyes flooding white, before he closed the distance. He backhanded her hard enough to break her concentration. Then he took her by the throat, flesh and smoke, and pinned her against the circle. She punched at him, but neither demonic strength nor desperation could outstrip his reach (freakishly long, Dean called it).

It barely took a nudge of willpower to send a jolt of electricity through his fingertips and into her. Sam could feel her trying to leave the body as she screamed. He smiled up at her, and stopped short of starting to fry her internal organs.

“Didn't know I could trap you in there, did you? Shame.” His eyes glittered as he pulled out Ruby's dagger with his free hand. “I'm sure you were expecting to see this though.” He pushed a lock of hair from her face with the tip of the blade, traced the edge of her jaw. “But I will do so much worse.” Lilith tried to struggle against him again, but she stopped when he pressed the blade to her ribs. He leaned forward so his lips brushed against her ears as he spoke. (A mockery of that night, when she'd kissed him before she tore Dean away.) “And I'm going to make it very, very slow.”

Another nudge of his will tore at her lungs, making every gasp gurgle with blood and pain.

“That's for your bitch with the hex bags,” he hissed.

“You should just kill me.” She choked and coughed. Still, she managed a wicked grin of her own. “He's been burning for so long, he isn't your brother anymore. There's nothing left to save.” She tried to laugh as his look darkened, but the effect was ruined when he tightened his grip on her throat.

Sam looked passed her at the Impala. It didn't even take a heartbeat for him to realize this didn't change anything. “No,” he said grimly. Her mirth died away. “One last deal. You give me his contract. Bind him to me, and I won't destroy you.”

Lilith stared at him. She was trying to read him, to catch a glimpse of his true intentions. At last she nodded. “Deal.” She waited until he put the knife away.

The binding wasn't like what he'd done to Meg. It burned into his brain, every word of Dean's contract branded into his mind. It tied their souls together with hellfire and pain. And then it was done, leaving behind only an awareness of his brother's soul (chained and tortured... Christ _five years_...) humming in the back of his head.

“Now let me go,” Lilith said.

It was Sam's turn to laugh. He wouldn't even need the Stairway to release Dean's soul now.

“Our deal...” she started, her eyes wide with fear.

Sam didn't bother explaining himself while he stripped out the mortal soul trapped within Lilith's body. He didn't need to.

“No,” she whimpered in vain. “Don't...”

Meticulously he took her powers away from her. Scraped away the chaff and trappings of her corrupted demon existence to leave only the shabby remains of what was once a soul. And released her. A thought was all it took to command her not to move. He didn't look at her as she slumped to the floor, half laying across the painted scrawl of his circle. She was only human after all.

And Sam was too busy watching the door to his brother's car open.

Dean stood gingerly, looking at his hands as he flexed his fingers. When he looked up, his eyes were black as coal. He glanced over at Lilith and smirked, every inch of him promising vengeance. Sam could hear his silent oath – hook for hook, inch for for flayed inch of flesh, she'd be begging to be sent to hell before he was done with her.

A sudden wash of doubt struck Sam. Five years was a long time...

“Sammy?” Dean glanced back at his car, then met Sam's gaze with green eyes. He grinned. “Only you would take good care of my baby by not using her.”

Sam crossed the space between them and hugged him. “Dean,” he said, not entirely sure what to say next.

Dean huffed and made a face, but hugged him back. “You are such a girl. Seriously, dude. Snow White?”


End file.
